


Hanging from the Edges

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, The Academy Is...
Genre: F/M, Pegging, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:39:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breaking off the past</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hanging from the Edges

**Author's Note:**

> Content: Courtney is, at most, a peripheral player in bandom - she's William Beckett's sister and she does photography for the band. Also, she is cute and adorable. No harm or disrespect is intended.
> 
> Thanks to inlovewithnight for the beta. All mistakes are my own.

He doesn’t really debate doing the benefit. It’s for a good cause and he wants to try out some of his new stuff, and he’s itching to just be on stage again. He says yes, and braces himself for the backlash of pissed-off fans on the other tour dates. The only thing that gives him pause is that the date is in LA.

Everyone asks him if he’s going to see Mike while he’s there, but it’s too soon for _him_ , and he’s the one who instigated everything, so he can only imagine how things are for Mike. Or maybe he can’t. That’s part of the problem. Regardless, there are newly created fault lines on the roads that lead to Mike’s house, to the places they used to go, and he knows he has to avoid them.

He calls Courtney for room and board, and she sighs heavily. Everyone always says that the flair for the dramatic is as inherent as the cheekbones and height, so he just waits until she says yes. She doesn’t ask about Mike. This is the one part of it that makes William feel unsure of his decision, the part that makes him wonder if he’s done more harm than good. All of his friends are in the middle, caught up in the divorce and dissolution, and he’s not sure who he gets to keep. There are a lot of people in LA, and by virtue of distance, they should be Mike’s friends now, but maybe they’re more like Courtney and refusing to pick a side, determinedly being nice to both of them.

As it is, Courtney takes one look at him when she picks him up at the airport and rolls her eyes. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?” He tosses his bag in the back of her car then carefully slides his guitar in after it.

“Thinking you’re the center of the universe. You’re not. Get in.”

“I’ll have you know that, according to Evie, I’m the center of the universe.”

“No, according to Evie, _she’s_ the center of the universe. You’re just caught in her gravitational pull.” She leans over and kisses his cheek. “Hey.”

“Hi. Thanks for the ride.”

“If I hadn’t shown up, you would have walked. Styled yourself as some lonely, wandering troubadour. I couldn’t inflict that on the world.”

“You know, I don’t need Mike. I’ve got you as his sarcastic twin.”

“Awwww.” She puts the car in gear and pulls out carefully before reaching over to grab his hand and squeeze. “Am I hurting your feelings?”

“If I say yes, will you stop or get worse?”

“Only one way to find out.” She drives out of the airport and through the traffic. “You ready for your show?”

“Yeah. Maybe? I’m nervous. I mean, not about playing or anything, but how people will react. It’ll be good to see Andrew again.”

“Are you going to try out any new stuff?”

“Maybe one song. It’s the hard part, you know? Deciding the balance. I mean, does anyone want to hear me sing Academy songs right now? But no one likes it when you do a show of just new stuff.”

“Yeah, well, when you split up from your band and don’t have a booming solo career already, it’s tough. But opening’s a good start.”

“You’re coming to the show? Bringing your camera?”

“We’ll see.” She signals and changes lanes. “How’s Adam?”

“Good. He’s joined Say Anything. Learning songs and getting ready to get back on the road. He and Mike are taking a road trip this summer.”

“He’s getting in a car with Carden and driving cross country? Voluntarily?”

William shrugs and looks out the window at the passing cars. “Apparently some people get along with Carden just fine. Pretty much everyone but me, from what I can tell.”

“You guys get along. Just not in the whole…band context.”

“And given that we _were_ a band-” He drawls it out, letting it hang in the air.

“Yeah, well. Something had to give. Something did. That’s the way it works sometimes. You’re happy with your decision, right?”

“Yes.”

“So quit bitching and whining.”

He glances over at her, looking at the familiar lines of her face. “But that’s what I do.” She cracks a smile and he laughs. “I mean, do what you’re best at, right?”

**

He loves her apartment, because it always feels like he thinks it should. A cross between creative free-spirit and anal organization. It shouldn’t work, but it does, and he loves seeing the pictures on her walls. She changes them out all the time, so every trip is a new exploration of where she is right now and how she’s feeling. He loves her black and whites the most, and he suspects she’s missing Chicago in the winter if the stark trees and windswept snowdrifts are anything to judge by.

She gets them both beers and settles on the couch, watching him prowl around before he joins her, taking a long drink. They’re both known for rambling and babbling and needing to talk incessantly, so it’s strange how well they manage in silence when they’re together. They talked about it once, well aware of the irony, and they both decided maybe they just knew what the other was going to say, or maybe it didn’t matter as much as the need for a place not to say anything.

He wishes desperately that were the case now as she opens her mouth. Inevitably when they _do_ talk, he ends up giving up way more than he intends. Or maybe that’s his actual intention. He doesn’t pretend to know himself. Or he pretends not to. One of the two.

“You’re not just here for the benefit, are you?”

He shrugs, not quite meeting her eyes. “There are some producers I’m lined up to talk to.”

“Bill.” Her voice is like the sting of a slap and he shakes his head.

“No. No, I’m not.”

Courtney lets the silence build for a few long moments, and he can feel everything building inside him along with it – nervousness, apprehension, want, need. “Are you going to ask for it?”

He looks at her, starting at her feet and letting his gaze travel upward. The room feels hot, like the thermostat has gone wild, and he licks a few small beads of sweat off his upper lip. “Please.”

Courtney doesn’t push the fact that it’s not actually a question. She just lets her gaze rake over him. It’s almost tangible, the weight of it. “Come here.”

He stands up and she steps closer, until there’s no room between them. With a groan, he tilts his head and kisses her, one hand tangling in her long hair as she parts his lips with her tongue and sparks another burst of heat along his spine.

His fingers curl into a tight fist and Courtney curses under her breath. He can taste the words as he catches her lower lip between his teeth, sucking on it as she makes soft moans of her own.

The moisture from the beer bottle means that her fingers are damp and cool as they slip beneath his shirt. His gasp breaks their contact and she eases his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. When she moves back in, her fingers are warmer at his waist and her mouth paints a hot trail down his neck.

“What do you want?”

He groans at the heat in her voice, the promise. “You know, Court. You _know_.”

“Say it.” She trails her fingers along his waistband. “I told you, if you want it, you’ve got to ask for it.”

She knows him far too well, knows that asking is the hardest thing for him. Which means she’s serious and won’t give him anything until he does. Her breath burns against his skin, a heat he hasn’t felt in too long, one he needs.

“Fuck me.”

She laughs and his cock jerks, his whole body reacting to the sound. “Is _that_ how you ask for things?”

He turns his head and brings her mouth back to his. They kiss until he feels lightheaded and her body is flush against his. He slides a hand up her back and he can feel the hardness of her nipples rubbing against his bare chest through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. “Please fuck me.”

“I’m still not impressed.”

He groans as she slides her thigh between both of his legs, pressing it against his erection. “Fuck. Please. Please fuck me.”

“Good boy.” She kisses him again, rough and hungry, giving his lower lip a sharp bite before she pulls away. “Bedroom.”

He shivers and heads for the bedroom. She catches his hand and laces their fingers together, holding on until he turns the light on and frees himself to undress. She moves to her closet and he watches her as he works his jeans open, over his erection and off his hips. She bends over and he hears the rustle of leather and metal. His cock jerks again and his boxer briefs are stained with damp when he pushes them down.

She brings the harness to the bed and lays it out on the comforter, smoothing the black straps against the gray fabric. He climbs on the bed, stretching out beside it, fingers catching on one of the buckles.

“Pick your poison.” She nods toward her bedside drawer, and William reaches up to open it. The array of dildos makes him moan and he shifts onto his hands and knees to crawl up and look at them. Different lengths and girths and materials to choose from, and he can feel his cock growing heavier as he feels them, running his fingers over them carefully.

He looks back at Courtney just as she pushes her jeans and panties down, the sandy brown hair at the cleft of her thighs curled with damp. “Shit, Court.”

“Pick one. Just one.” She smiles at him, something softer than he expects and he nods, not actually doing what she says as he shifts onto his ass to watch her slide the harness up her legs. She adjusts the straps, the pale pink egg along the crotch strap already vibrating. He thumps his head on the headboard and moans roughly, reaching for the matching dildo. It’s thick and mottled, the clear silicone imbued with pale pink bursts of color, and it looks like Barbie gone bad when Courtney slides it into the ring. It’s a good eight inches long and nearly as thick as his own cock, which makes his muscles tense with anticipation.

“Nice choice,” she says. “Sure you can handle it?”

“I can handle it.”

She smiles again, and this time it’s laced with something darker. “On your feet, Beckett.”

He slides off the bed as she finishes securing the straps, spreading his legs for her and bracing himself on the mattress. “Easy, okay? Just…it’s…”

“Hush.” Her voice is gentle, and William nods, curling his fingers against the comforter. He hears the cap of the lube open, a loud click in the silence of just their breath. “Trust me.”

“I do.” Her fingers graze lightly across his ass, tracing the curve and making him shiver well before he feels the drizzle of liquid at the base of his spine, slithering down toward his opening. “F-fuck.”

“Eventually, bossy.” She follows the trail with her fingers and rubs slow, lazy circles over the tight muscle.

William hisses softly, shifting his legs wider. Courtney’s other hand is on his hip, and he can feel the soft stroke of the dildo against his inner thigh. His fists tighten and he bows his head, wanting _more_ already. “C’mon. Please.”

Her first finger presses in and his whole body tightens. She’s barely in to her knuckle, but he feels like he’s going to break apart, his erection ebbing and his breath coming in short, pained gasps. It’s partly psychological, he knows, but that doesn’t change the reaction.

“Easy,” she purrs, not moving the finger inside him, but rubbing distracting circles on his hip with just the tips of her fingers. “It’s okay. Nice and easy.”

He breathes slowly, forcing himself to hold each breath in until it aches and then release it. His body starts to relax and she makes a low hum of pleasure that matches the distant vibration of the egg. He nods eventually and she moves her finger, a slow, shallow thrust that makes his breath stutter again. His body doesn’t clench, though, and she keeps the movement going, pushing deeper with every thrust. His head falls forward, bangs covering his forehead and eyes and he can feel the steady thrum of arousal building up again.

Courtney leans in, her breasts against William's back. She feathers kisses over his shoulder blades and along the upper curve of his spine, distracting him from her finger. "Relax," she whispers. "Not going to hurt you."

Her breath sends a shiver through him and he pushes back against her hand. He can feel her thumb pressed to his perineum, and her last knuckle is firm against the muscle.

"More?"

He jerks his head in response, not trusting his voice. Courtney slides her free hand beneath him, nails raking lightly at his chest. His cock jerks and he thrusts back again. The lube is cold on his skin, a shock of ice on overheated flesh, but Courtney grabs his hip to keep him from pulling away as she pushes her second finger inside him.

William groans and his knees buckle slightly. She doesn't go as slow, her thrusts harder, getting deeper, her fingers separating and scissoring to spread him open. There's a stretch and a burn to it all, and he aches all over. "Court," he manages to choke out her name, his hips working in concert with the thrust of her fingers. "More."

 

The third finger makes him gasp and he has to fight to keep himself braced on the bed. She curves all three fingers at the first knuckle then spreads them apart, and he can feel come dripping off his cock as sensation overwhelms him.

"Please."

The hand at his hip disappears and her thrusts slow. He tries to match his breathing to them, but loses the battle as the head of the dildo rubs against his balls. Courtney moves it up, easing her fingers from his ass and replacing it with the smooth head of the cock.

"Easy," she hums, her hips nudging forward. He nods, silent permission, and Courtney pushes in slowly. His muscles contract, closing around her. "Relax, Bilvy."

"E-easy...easy for you to say."

She laughs softly and her hips move back, the dildo sliding out, just the smooth head inside him. "Ready?"

He takes a deep breath and pushes back, sucking in air as she thrusts forward, hips meeting his ass, dildo buried deep. His body jerks against his will, everything too tight, too much. Courtney stays pressed against him, not moving until he unclenches his fists, splaying his fingers on the bed. She pulls back slowly then pushes in again.

They move together, both of them breathing loud and rough in the silent apartment. He can hear the hum of the vibrator and the resulting hitches in Courtney’s voice, half-swallowed sounds that make his cock throb. He shifts down, using one elbow for support as his other hand slides back, wet and slick before he even gets it wrapped around his dick.

The fingers at his hips give way to nails and she digs into his skin, her thrusts erratic. Her orgasm hits and she collapses forward against him. They stick together with sweat, and she keeps moving, the angle and depth of her thrusts altered.

He grabs the base of his dick tight, trying to fight off the instinct, but she keeps moving, doesn’t stop, panting his name against his spine, and he comes. He gives up the effort of holding himself off the bed and slumps onto the wet comforter.

Courtney’s voice is a high, desperate keen and he can feel the pulse throbbing in the tense muscles of her legs. There’s no rhythm anymore, just frantic shallow thrusts that are too much sensation for him. His fingers scrabble at the bed, a flight response that fades when she finally cries out and stills except for the ragged rise and fall of her chest and the rapid beat of her heart.

Neither of them moves beyond the stuttering breaths and the involuntary spasms of adrenaline-fueled muscles. He closes his eyes and floats, just giving in to the sensations. He doesn’t know how much time passes before she straightens, the move rolling her hips forward, pushing the dildo deeper.

“O-oh… _god_ , Court.”

She balances herself with a hand on his hip and one at the base of the dildo, bracing it as she eases out of him. His muscles clench and he sinks to his knees, turning his face from the bed and sucking in deep breaths, watching in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door as she fumbles with the buckles and lets the harness slide down her legs. The egg’s vibrations seem deafening and he reaches for it, turning it off, his fingers sticky wet with her come. “Gonna clean up,” he mutters, not actually making a move to get off the floor.

“You’re also going to wash my bedding.” She reaches out, fingers catching in the tangles of his sweat damp hair. “And never mention to Grandma what happened on her quilt.”

“Court. Ew.” He laughs and turns his head, kissing her palm. “We’re still going to order pizza, right?”

“You really think I’m _that_ cheap of a date?”

He frowns and manages to get to his feet with the help of the mattress for leverage. “I know you are.”

“You’re a bad man.” She slaps his arm before bending to pick up the harness. “Go clean up. I’ll order the pizza. But you’re still paying.”

“I thought you were all into women’s lib and equal rights.”

“I am. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you be a cheapskate.” She points at the bathroom. “Go.”

**

He’s half-watching the movie, his feet propped on the table next to the empty pizza box. Courtney’s head is on his lap, and his fingers are combing through the long, dark strands. “I didn’t know I’d miss him so much.”

“You guys were together for a long time,” she reminds him softly, her tone neutral. “Even when you were fighting or thousands of miles apart – creatively or logistically or both – you were still together, still a band. It’s exciting and invigorating on your own, and it’s what you want, but that doesn’t mean it’s not scary.”

“I just hate that I can’t…call him or text him or…anything. I mean, I know he wanted it too. I know he wasn’t happy.”

“Sometimes-” she shifts onto her back and looks up at him. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter if it’s what you want, Bill, especially if you’re not the one who gets to say when. You had the final word, and maybe he had more he needed to say or maybe he needed to be the one, for once, who publicly got to make the decision. Maybe, for once, he wanted to be the voice.”

“But this way I got all the heat.”

“And, once more, all the attention.” She shrugs, her shoulders rubbing against his thigh. “I don’t know, Bill. I haven’t talked to Mike about any of this. Even if he wanted to talk, I doubt he’d come to me. I’m just saying that maybe wanting it and getting it aren’t always the same thing.”

“Be careful what you wish for?” He asks it lightly, already aware that’s what she’s talking about, and that she’s not just talking about Mike. He’d hate that she can read him so well if he didn’t depend on it so much. “Wished for you, you know.”

“Well, sometimes you just get damn lucky.”

He laughs and bends his legs to bring her closer, leaning down to kiss her. “Damn right.”


End file.
